Clintasha Stories
by Created to Write
Summary: I couldn't help but do Clint/Natasha stories. 'Don't shoot me Clint, but you two go together like two arrows in a quiver.' One-shots.
1. Red Ledger

**I love the fact that Clint and Natasha know each other so well.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my opinion that they should've gotten or should get a 'Budapest' movie. I mean come on!**

* * *

_Dripping, oozing, gushing. It was everywhere. Bright red was consuming her. She looked in the mirror that appeared in front of her and saw her hair become the sickly color. It spread down her body and pooled under her feet. Around her images came and went, fleeting yet lasting a lifetime. She heard gun shots and screams. Her vision turned red._

"AAHHH!" Natasha yells, waking up from her nightmare, the same one she's had for weeks. She sits up, breathing hard. 'It's gone, it's gone.' She looks at the blood on her fingernails. 'Is it?' She looks at her arms and winces from the sight of the marks.

"Tasha?" Someone asks from the hallway. Natasha gets up, throwing a thin robe over her black nightgown. She walks to her balcony at Avenger Mansion. "Tasha?" Clint opens her door and sees her staring at the stars. He walks up and stands at the railing a foot away from her. After a minute, he looks at her.

Natasha Romanoff, the assassin turned S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who _never_ showed signs of weakness, was crying. The glistening tears fell onto the stone rail after rolling down her cheeks. They pooled onto and fell down to the rocks below. Clint knows she's on her highest alert when she's quiet. So to break it, she needs to talk.

"You okay?" It was a stupid question, but a good conversation starter. She looks at him from the corner of her eye because she didn't know he was there and doesn't want him to know that. She takes a small sniff and tries to wipe the tears away.

"I had a nightmare, again." She tells him, trying to be strong. She looks at him as he nods knowingly. Clint has understood Natasha for a long time. She is the same for the guy that simply put a pair of cotton pants over his boxers when he woke up. He would have forgotten, but he thought of her.

"Wanna talk 'bout it?" he asks. She shakes her head and looks up. He follows her gaze to the lit sky. "Pretty." he comments, holding the 'just like you' in his throat.

"Yeah," she replies, "I can't believe," Clint scoots over a half a foot. She doesn't see. "That something so bright can be seen from so far away." Natasha feels Clint's warmth right next to her. She leans in his direction and lays her head on his well toned shoulder. 'Because I'm cold.' She decides. He wraps his arm around her.

"It won't define you,_ Tasha_." He whispers in her hair.

"I have red in my ledger. Too much. Nothing can erase it. Everyone still sees it when they look at me." She admits. Clint chuckles.

"Not everyone. The only red I see is your hair."

"Then I've fooled you the most."

"_Or_," Clint lightly kisses her fiery hair. "I know you the _best_." He turns her and pulls her into an embrace. She crumbles to his touch. 'Because I'm exhausted and shaken from my dream.' She reminds herself. Clint continues while looking in her eyes, "I'm the only one to see you like this. I know you are more delicate than you seem." She rests her head on her hands, her hands open palmed on his chest.

"You know I trust you with my life, right?" She asks. He nods, smiling slightly.

"Just as I do with you, Tasha."

"But I have red in-"

"So do I. I'm sure Cap has some red on his hands."

"But I have more than you." She says, sounding more like a child every second.

"So? I don't care. Your past is behind you."

"You saved me from it." She admits. They sand there for a few moments. Clint holds her close and Natasha presses her cheek to his front. "My hero." More comforting silence. "Thank you for reminding me."

"Anytime." They stay there. Not because they didn't know what to say. They each know the other better than the other knew. They just don't want to move. Each with their own reasons.

"Do you remember watching Catching Fire?" Clint asks. Natasha nods. "Katniss had nightmares after her first Hunger Games. But Peeta stayed with her and warded them away." Natasha remembered that part of the movie well. 'Peeta also had nightmares,' she notes.

"So?" She asks softly.

"Do you want me to stay?" Whatever it was about, Clint had nightmares. 'Loki's brainwashing' Natasha realizes, 'That's what.'

"Yes."

* * *

**Aww! How cute, right? Clint _knows_ he has feelings for her, but Natasha _refuses_ to admit she does.**

**Okay, so about the movie. I honestly think they should have a Marvel made movie on 'what happened in Budapest.' I've seen enough fan-made ones (which,by the way, weren't too bad.) and want to see the real deal. Who's with me!?**


	2. After Budapest

**Okay, I still want a movie, but has anyone written what happened when Hawkeye came back with Black Widow? I haven't found one. So, here is my idea of Nick Fury's reaction. (Without the swearing. I don't do that and neither do the characters I write about.)**

**Disclaimer: No one is mine, nothing is mine. Marvel created these fated-to-be lovebirds. Go Stan Lee!**

* * *

"You WHAT?!" Nick yells at the archer in his office. Agent Barton was always up to whatever was thrown at him. But this was one time he didn't follow orders.

"I brought her back with me." the agent repeats.

"So you _didn't_ take her out? One of the most _dangerous assassins_ in the world is going to join S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Barton nods, not flinching from Nick's one-eyed gaze. "You were ordered to kill her. You _never_ hesitate." Nick reminds him.

"I didn't." The director and boss of the agent looks at the computer screen on his desk.

"Then _how_ is she here?" He asks, pointing at the video of Black Widow a few rooms over.

"I made a different call."

"You don't change the order. You're told to do something and you do it."

"She can be a good person." Clint blurts. Nick stares at him.

"Did she bat her eyes at you?" Nick asks. "Did she make you believe that?"

"No," Clint says. "I had to save her butt at least ten times before she would even hear a word I say. Then it took having to stop an enemy of both of us to get her to come."

"What if you have just been under the influence that she didn't want to come. What if she did, and got you to do what she wants?"

"Then I'll live with the consequences." Clint replies. "Because I don't regret my decision. I never will." Agent Barton walks to the door.

"Heh, trust. It's never completely accurate, Barton." Director Fury tells him. Clint stops.

"Don't you know me, sir?" He asks over his shoulder, "I'm always accurate." He walks out the door, leaving his boss pinching the bridge of his nose with a headache. _'If you say so, Barton.'_

* * *

**Now, a few of you have spoken your ideas for the movie. I thank you for that! I've already found out about Phase two and three of the Marvel Cinematic Universe and NOTHING is with these two solely. If it was a one-shot, short movie, I'd be fine with that. Where all the Avengers are asking and the flashback is throughout.**

**I wonder what Jeremy Renner and Scarlett Johansson think about the idea. Would they want to do a movie like that?**


	3. Big Baby Barton

**Disclaimer: If you don't know who this belongs to, look up 'Marvel' on Google.**

* * *

Clint leans against the brick wall.

"Natasha..." He says into his comm. "Tasha... I'm down... meet me at... _the place_." He continues his path, holding his side in pain. His bow is dangling off his shoulder, trailing behind him.

"I'll be there." Natasha says.

* * *

Clint sits in the chair, breathing heavy. He lost a lot of blood.

"What happened this time?" Natasha asks, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

"A few bullets, a cut, and the concussion doesn't help." He answers, being the serious one in the pair, at the moment.

"Let's see." She takes the first aid kit out of the cabinet. He tries to chuckle, but winces in pain.

"You think that will help? That little thing?" She rolls her eyes and takes the needle out. Barton backs up. "Oh no, you aren't sticking that in me." Natasha looks at the little needle.

"What? This little thing? You aren't afraid of needles are you?" He shakes his head, but backs up more when she moves closer. She grabs his arm and keeps him from moving more. "Face your fear, you big baby, or you'll bleed out."

"Fine." He sits at the table and let's her dig the bullets out of his side and shoulder.

"How did you get hit?" She asks.

"I wasn't prepared." Natasha shows a shocked face.

"What? You?" Clint lightly punches her in the arm, or tries. He can't lift his.

"There goes archery. I can't lift my arm." He flexes his fingers. They had all gone numb.

"Don't worry baby, you'll get there."

"I'm not a baby." He defends. She finishes the last stitch. "I'm not."

"Yes you are." She fingers the torn part of his uniform. "You're my baby. I have to take care of you."

"Same to you Ms. No Bikinis." He retorts. She flips her hair out of the way.

"Well, you could have done a better job."

"I bet you hated them anyway."

"You didn't." She says slyly. He puts his one hand up in defense.

"I _never_ saw you in one."

"And you never will." She puts the kit away and sets Clint's bow on the table.

"What am I again?" He asks. She smiles and sits next to him again.

"You are my big, baby, Barton."

"Is that so?" He leans over and kisses her on the cheek. "Babe?"

* * *

**So, I'm assuming Clint was the one who stitched up her shot from the Winter Soldier. He did a terrible job. I made him a little afraid of needles.**

**Ms. Hawkeye suggested a 'Clint hurt' story. I merely wrote it out.**

**To:**

**Ms. Hawkeye: Here ya go!**


	4. Dying Together

**Don't kill me! *Hides behind Thor* I love them, but I thought of this.**

**Disclaimer: Marvel, don't do this to the pair. Oh, and they aren't mine.**

* * *

(Clint's POV)

"Ahh!" I wake up screaming. I was told before of what Loki told Natasha. How I'd have to kill her intimately in every way I know she fears. I had warded off the nightmares that came with it. But recent events had brought them back.

I had been taken. I still remember and fear the scientists who took things from me, like my DNA and sanity. _"He is deaf,"_ one had said, _"That will be a problem."_ I had struggled to break free, hoping someone would come. But I was in captivity long enough to see him, my clone. I found out later he had my memories. But he was evil, no emotion ever on his face.

_"Clint."_ Then she arrived, my Tasha. She freed me. But my clone intercepted us. I was far too weak to fight. I could only watch as he used my memories to defeat her. Just as Loki said. He had left her scarred. I used what strength I had left to get us out of there. SHIELD had picked us up outside.

That was one week ago. I still have to use a wheelchair from the strain and drugs they put me through. I slip on my hearing aids and manage to sit my self in the stupid chair. I can't wait until I don't need it anymore. I wheel down the hallway, to the far door. It has guards posted at it. I get ready to show my card, like always. But this time, they just move aside. I wheel past, surprised.

This is Tasha's room. I catch my breath when I see the wires and tubes keeping her alive. I stop next to her. I touch her cheek. She never moves, never says anything. She's cold. Her once bright red hair is dull. "Tasha..." I say, "Why are you still so fair when even at the door of death?" I remember little Shakespeare, but I believe that was close to it. "My Tasha, I'm sorry." I did this- no. My clone did this. He's still out there. "I'll get him."

Tasha hasn't woken up. She stays on the fine line between life and death. I never told her. "I know, you can hear me. And, I want to tell you something... I love you, Tasha. Love, love you. It killed me, broke me, to see m-him do that to you." I take her hand between my two. "I died. I need you to bring me back to life, Tasha." I say her name with such, softness. That is how I want to say it for the rest of my life. "You are my other half."

(Natasha's POV)

"...What will I do without you?" He continues. He's right, I can hear him. But I don't know what he means. Who is he? Where am I? Did something happen? Did I get hurt? All I see is darkness. I can't move. Fleeting feelings pass as waves over me. Fear, Joy, pain, lots of pain. Disbelief and, wait- love? Why love? Who is it towards? I am an assassin with issues. I've never loved anyone. No one has ever loved me.

"Tasha..." Except the voice. Tasha, Natasha. That's me. But... "I'm dying with you..." Who's that? I see images of my last memory. A man. Brown hair and eyes. Soft muscle build coated over with a solid tan. Firm chin. But what chokes me is the feeling of closeness, betrayal, hate, and the pressure of his hands around my neck.

* * *

**Quick Q, should I make a story from this. Cause I think there is some value in it, some potential.**

***Hits self repeatedly* Why, did I, write this!**


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